Baking Cookies
by sleepy barn owl
Summary: Fang and Max are doing fine baking cookies until SOMEONE decides it's time for a flour fight. ONESHOT! Fluffy Fax.


Max watched him like a hawk as he measured out the granulated sugar.

"You're sure this is the same recipe? That doesn't seem like enough."

"Relax," Fang said, dumping the sugar into the metal mixing bowl. "There's still brown sugar to put in."

She sat on the granite bar, reading the recipe for him. She hadn't realised that her tank top strap had slid off of her shoulder, or how short her shorts really were; she was too concerned with banging her bare feet against the cabinets and making sure he put in the right amount of each ingredient.

Between the foot-banging and the amount of exposed skin, Fang found it hard to concentrate.

"Half a cup of brown sugar," she recited. "Wait, Fang, we have brown sugar, right? Right? Oh god - !"

He shushed her, procuring a container of brown sugar from the cabinet.

"What even is brown sugar?" Max asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the significantly different sugar. Fang shrugged and packed the half-cup full of brown sugar, plopping the lump into the bowl.

"I would ask you to stir it, but knowing you, it'd probaby catch on fire." He went to the cabinet and took out the large box of flour. "Can I trust you to measure out two cups of this while I add the eggs?"

Max nodded. "I hardly think I can make flour ignite."

Fang quickly cracked the eggs into the batter and stirred it, figuring that the less time he gave Max to mess around with the flour, the better.

"Uh-oh," she whispered from accross the kitchen. Fang turned. "Crap, crap, CRAP!" The last 'crap' came out as a scream as she flung a flaming measuring cup accross the kitchen and into the sink, where it landed with a thud and a hiss as fire met water.

"Oh, god," she said. "I'm never going to be able to cook at this rate. I'm a failure."

Fang secretly agreed, but he wasn't going to let her know that. "No, you aren't. Remember when Iggy got all depressed because that one toothpaste bomb kept failing on him?"

Max cracked a smile. "Yeah, I remember..."

Probably because when it did finally work, it exploded half of our belongings... "He kept trying, and it worked in the end."

"Yeah, I gue - wait, I'm supposed to be the one who gives inspirational speeches, not you!" She turned to glare at him, but the full effect of her Sizzling Death Glare was ruined by the flour on her nose.

"You've got some flour... here," Fang said, touching his own nose in the same spot.

Max crossed her eyes. "Um, I don't see anything."

"That's because it's your nose..."

"Ugh!" She reached behind him, grabbing a handful of flour and swinging it into him at full speed. He was immediately covered in the white powder. "FLOUR FIGHT!" she yelled, grabbing two more handfuls. Fang recovered from his shock. No way am I letting her win this.

He ran to the box, grabbing as much as he could and flinging it towards her. It landed perfectly, painting her white as it tumbled down her clothes.

She reciprocated. But then he grabbed the entire box, ran at her, and dumped it over her head.

"Hey! No fair!" she shrieked, ducking to avoid it. Unfortunately for her, it made its mark, and she was officially the loser of the Flour Fight.

"You've really got something there now," Fang said, taking a step closer to her. "Right here." He tapped his lips.

Max licked her lip before realising his true intent. He leaned down, placing his lips on hers. The kiss was long and soft, and tasted distinctly of flour. When they finally broke apart, Fang frowned at her. "We can't have cookies now, because you made me pour out all of the flour... onto the floor..."

"I didn't make you do anything," she said, pushing him lightly.

"Oh well," he said. "We'll just have to make do without it."

* * *

 **20 Minutes Later**

Fang removed the flat, burnt-looking, and overall unappetizing flour-less cookies from the oven.

"What kind of 'cook' are you?" Max asked, catching sight of the sad excuses for cookies. Right then, she heard the excited call of Gazzy: "Hey, guys! I think the cookies are done!"

The loud thundering of four hungry bird-kids running down the stairs followed his statement.

Max looked wordlessly from the gross cookies, to the flour on the floor, to Fang, who was covered in flour.

This time it was him who said, "Uh-oh."


End file.
